makes for righteousness." Now to reply "an Eternal," appears to me to be taking a rather mean and pedantical advantage of the uninflected peculiarities of English (and Hebrew), which leave it an open question whether you mean your "Eternal" to be masculine, or neuter. And "Tendency"—what is it? Is it not a "stretching," or "pulling," or partially neutralised force—a common human experience? Now we are dealing with the accusation of limiting our conception of God to our experiences as men. And, so far as this charge is concerned, what is the difference between calling God a "Tendency," or a "Rock," or a "Shield," or a "House of Defence," as the old Psalmist does? Are not all these names mere metaphors derived from human experience? In the same way to call God a Father is (no doubt) a metaphor: but is it more a metaphor than to call Him a Tendency?
Some metaphors, which describe God by reference to the relations of man to man, may be called anthropomorphic; others, which describe Him by reference to implements (such as a Shield) may be called organomorphic; others, which assimilate Him to lifeless and inorganic objects (such as a Hill) may be called by some other grand name, such as apsychomorphic; others, which would subtilize Him down to a thought, or a mind, or a spirit, may be called phronesimorphic, noumorphic, pneumatomorphic; but in the name of common sense—or in the name of that sense which ought to be common, and which ought to revolt against bondage to mere words—what is there in that termination "morphic" which should stagger a seeker after divine truth? Do we not all recognize that all terms applied to the supreme God are "morphisms" of various kinds? And the question is not how we can avoid a "morphism"—for we cannot avoid it—but how or where we can find the noblest and most spiritually helpful "morphism." And as between the
